


A Place to Heal - Circle of Life

by Annejackdanny



Series: A Place to Heal [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Little Daniel - Freeform, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third and last story in the "A Place to Heal" Universe.<br/>Written for the LD List Summer Challenge 2012</p><p>A story about belonging, friendship and hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place to Heal - Circle of Life

**Author's Note:**

> These last two installments of "A Place to Heal" - the Christmas Interlude and this one - came to me like butterflies on a summer (or winter) day. I never expected this when I finished the first story so many years ago. It was done, completed. But when darcy had asked for the stocking stuffer on Christmas 2011, things fell right back into place and this Jack and his LD - and the horse - allowed me to return to the cabin and play with them. I had fun. I hope, everyone who is readaing these has fun as well.

**A Place to Heal**

**Circle of Life**

 by Annejackdanny

  

While this story was written for the LDSC 3 Challenge (grow something in your backyard), it’s also for darcy as a get-well cheer-up!

 

Thanks to Hazel for the hand-holding and whip-cracking

And to Char for introducing me to the worlds and tales of J R R Tolkien

 

*******

 

_The grass in front of the small house was brittle and smelled dry. When she mouthed at the tufts her teeth crunched with sand. She snuffled and pawed the ground; setting free little dust clouds without finding green blades or roots. She turned her head, ears twitching towards the water. The smell coming from there, usually tangy and promising refreshment, was different. She did not want to drink from the water anymore. The shore had become swampy and the waterline had moved further away._

_There was no sound, not even crickets. The air stood still, the house lay silent. But the bucket was out for her by the porch in the shade, filled with cool fresh water, and she drank her fill. Then she moved to the back, to the patch of grass the man had fenced for her. The pasture was yellow; burnt by the sun as it was in the front. However, there was another bucket and she smelled apples and carrots. She nosed the food, chose an apple and started to eat. But something kept distracting her; time and again she raised her head, ears twitching, eyes searching, nostrils flared._

_There was no danger. This was her home and she did not know what unsettled her. The man and his young were gone in that loud bad smelling thing the man called ‘truck’. To bring home food the two legged ate. And maybe grain for her._

_Yet, something caused her distress. Unease._

_The air didn’t smell right. It smelled sharp, a little bit like soiled plants or spores, a little bit like too much sun, as though there was dust in the air. She knew the smell; it wasn’t unfamiliar. But it meant a change of elements. There would be rain, finally, which was good. But before the rain there would be darkness and storms rattling the trees and the house, growling and lightning. And she sensed it coming closer even though the sky was still clear. But the heat was dense and thick, like haze over the land._

_She flared her nostrils again._

_It was coming._

_And she knew she had to leave and find shelter elsewhere. She had felt the need to leave for some time, but had not understood the reason. She liked being here. Here was food and water and two legged who would not hurt or restrain her. But the upcoming elements urged her to leave now. To find a safe place with better grass and herbs to feed on, more shade and water coming from a spring. Away from the winds and growls and lightning._

_Yet, she still hesitated, for this was her home and she felt safe here. The bad elements would come and go as they always had and she would wait and welcome the rain just like the man and his young. They were of one herd; a strange herd because they were so different in being, but still a herd. Would she not have to stay and help the man to protect the young? Wasn’t the young her foal as well? Not born by her, but a small one, still..._

_Leaving the herd was not what she wanted. Not what she must do. But something was calling her._

_Finally she left the food bucket and started walking the path leading into the dense forest, following the strange call to go away._

**July**

 

    “ _Hey! now! Come hoy now! Wither do you wander?_
    _Up, down, near or far, here, there or yonder?_
    _Sharp-ears, Wise-nose, Swish-tail and Bumpkin,_
    _White-socks my little lad, and old Fatty Lumpkin!”_
    _LotR “The Fellowship” - Tom Bombadil calling for the ponies_

 

**I**

 

Flicking the sweat off his forehead with one hand, Jack O’Neill grabbed his tool box with the other and climbed down the ladder leaning against the wooden wall of the shed. He had finally managed to repair the roof and the door that had been ripped off its hinges. Now all the havoc the last tornado had wreaked was taken care off. They had needed the long period of rain badly; the pond had started to smell and all the plants and grass around the cabin had been yellowish and sere. There had been forest fires south of the little backwater community they called the ‘town’ around here. The tornado had first made it worse and then the rain had helped putting it out. They had gotten lucky; the tornado had dragged the fire away from the ‘town’ and their little cabin north of it and the rain had started just soon enough to prevent greater parts of the woods from catching fire.

Now, after two weeks of non-stop pouring rain and a couple days of drizzle the pond had stopped smelling like rotten eggs and the grass was getting back its natural green color. The small creeks were carrying masses of water, overflowing and flooding the shores. The earth was soaking up the welcoming water like a dry sponge.

The sun was back out. Humidity was high, making everything feel sticky and sweaty. That would hopefully get better in a couple of days. Northern Minnesota usually wasn’t as humid as its southern part, but it had been up to 100 F all through June and July. Instead of bringing a drop in temperature, the heavy rains had turned the air into a damn steam bath.

Jack put the tool box down and carried the ladder back into the shed, then got the box and stored it away on one of the shelves. When he stepped out into the sunny afternoon again, he spotted a lone figure coming out of the woods, wearing cutoff jeans and a blue t-shirt. Daniel had tamed his unruly blond mop of hair with a leather band; tied together at the back of his head. For some reason he still wanted to wear it long and Jack had given up on trying to force a ‘proper’ hair cut on the kid a long time ago.

Some things were just not worth fighting over. They didn’t have to worry about school rules since Daniel was home schooled via an online program. And Harry, the guy who owned the ‘town’s’ only store where Daniel jobbed two days a week, didn’t mind as long as the kid showed up to work clean and with the hair tied back. The only thing Jack insisted on was cutting it back to a little over shoulder length every six months or so. That boy’s hair grew like weed and if he didn’t watch it he’d soon look like Legolas, the elf – sans the pointed ears.

Daniel of the Minnesota Woods – had a nice ring to it. After all, they were living in the woods and Daniel seemed to be a bit out of this world from time to time, listening to his own song and being in sync with the wilderness.

And Jack had probably read too much Lord of the Rings lately. But, hey, the boy liked it and they still did that reading thing at nights or during rainy days. Daniel had chosen the Tolkien books from the mobile library that came to town once a month and while Jack had moaned and groaned at first – because those books were huge and written in a kinda weird style – they had spent many hours reading to each other all through the rainy weeks.

Daniel had reached the horse’s makeshift pasture now, stopped walking and gazed across the grass to the little shelter Jack had built for her last summer – it used to be his shed. Now he had a new shed by the house. The horse never really took advantage of it. Even when the weather was lousy she’d rather retreat into the forest and seek shelter where the trees were dense enough not to let through too much rain or heat. She was an odd gal, that one. Maybe that’s why she fitted in so nicely with them.

Stretching his back and wincing as several muscles and joints popped back into place, Jack strolled over to the kid. Daniel turned worried eyes on him and shook his head. In the suntanned young face those eyes had the color of the summer sky; an intense dazzling blue. “I looked everywhere. The meadow with the flowers, the creek, the brush with the wild blackberries. She’s gone.”

Jack put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “She’ll be back.”

“Four weeks,” Daniel said, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It’s been awfully hot. Maybe she went deeper into the woods where it’s cooler.”

“The storm was bad,” Daniel pointed out.

“We had storms before. She’ll be okay.”

“It was worse.”

Jack couldn’t exactly deny that. This one had been pretty bad. And there had been the fire. They hadn’t seen it, but the smell had been everywhere and maybe she had run. But she’d be back. She always was.

“The fire scared her away,” Daniel verbalized Jack’s thoughts.

“Yeah, maybe. But not for good.” He patted Daniel’s back. “Stop worrying, buddy.” Of course telling Daniel to stop worrying when he was already worrying was a lost cause. Jack needed a different strategy here. “Remember last fall when she was gone for almost four weeks? You worried your head off and one day she was back just like that.”

Daniel frowned. “She was hurt.”

“Yeah, okay, but not bad.”

She had come home with a slightly swollen leg, but nothing to worry about. Cool compresses and some ointment to rub into the tender area for a week had taken care of it. Running around free in the woods like she did, she was bound to hurt herself from time to time. Jack thought she got lucky on the whole. He and Daniel were used to treating small cuts, removing stones from her hooves or untangling her mane and tail and remove burrs. But that was about it. She was used to living in the woods even though she stayed close to the house more often than not these days.

Used to anyway.

“Tell you what? You’ve been searching for her all morning. Let’s have some ice cream and take a break. We can look in the other direction later this afternoon. Maybe she went to the other side of the pond for a change.”

Daniel looked doubtful. “There’s just scrub with thorns and the trees are so dense. There are no paths and no meadows.”

“I know. But maybe she felt adventurous. If she walks in that direction long enough, finding her way through the scrub, she might have found the old logging road. It’s not used anymore, but it should still be walkable at least. It leads to Kinney.”

“Kinney?” That spark of interest was just what Jack had been hoping for.

“It’s a ghost town. People say it’s haunted,” he said in a stage whisper.

“A ghost town?” The spark of interest grew; Jack could see it in the widening of the blue orbs looking back at him.

“Oh, yeah. Used to be an iron mining town back in the 1860’s or something. What’s left of it is just a couple of buildings, a cemetery and some old mining shafts which were closed long ago.”

“Have you been there?” Daniel asked.

“Yep, when I was a kid.”

Jack had spent all his childhood summers out here. First on his other grandparent’s horse ranch just a couple miles away. Later, when grandpa Henry had passed and granny sold the ranch and had gone to live with Jack’s aunt in Minneapolis, he’d come here to spent his summers with his father’s dad. Jack had missed the horses and his mom’s parents, but the woods around the cabin had its own magical places for a boy. And ‘deideo’ O’Neill had taken him all those places. So, yeah, these parts of the woods had been Jack’s stomping ground until he had felt too old to spend his time out in the woods with an old quirky Irish guy who didn’t even have running water and electricity.

Now that Jack was going to be an old quirky guy himself – with running water and electricity though – he wished he hadn’t stopped visiting the old man. Oh, he’d been out here all right. For weekends on and off through his academy years and later with Sara. But it had never been like in those endless summers when he’d helped with the horses on the ranch or later when he’d gone fishing and hiking around the woods with daideo O’Neill; just the way Jack and Daniel were doing now. Jack had loved both his grandparents and while he knew kids moved on and had to get out to tackle life and try new things, he wished he’d spent more time with his daideo later on.

“What did you do there? Played with your friends?” Daniel asked, curious.

“My daideo took me there and we explored the empty houses and the cemetery. There’s a hiking trail passing by Kinney, but it takes a while to get there.”

“Daideo,” Daniel said thoughtfully. He pronounced it dadjó; the right way. Jack had to smile. Daniel hadn’t retained his full knowledge of all the languages he used to speak. He recalled a little Egyptian, bits and pieces of Abydonian thrown in the mix, but the vast linguistic knowledge he used to have was – if not gone – buried deeply in his subconscious mind. Yet, Daniel still had the knack of picking up a language pattern quickly. He’d taken French and Greek classes and was way ahead of his study schedule.

“It’s the Irish word for grandpa,” Jack said. “He was my father’s dad. He and my granny used to live here as long as I can remember. When they were gone, I got the cabin. It moves on from fathers to sons. Has for generations.”

“Oh,” Daniel said softly. “You would have given it to Charlie then.”

“Yeah. If he’d have wanted it.”

Daniel was shocked. “But he must have wanted it, Jack! Who wouldn’t want it? It’s the best place ever.”

Jack grinned. “That’s good. Because it’s going to be yours now one day.”

Daniel looked at him, the expression on his face hard to decipher. Then he said, “But not for a very long time. Not until I’m at least as old as you are now. You’re not... “

Jack shook his head. “No. Not for a very long time, buddy. Not if I can help it.”

“I know you can’t promise me. Just try to... for as long as you can.”

One of this little Daniel’s deepest fears was being left behind. Or finding out his reality, which had just stabilized around him again two summers ago, was crumbling and falling apart again. “For as long as I can,” Jack said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Daniel let out a small huff, then grinned a bit sheepishly. “Can we have ice cream now?”

“Yeahsureyabetcha.”

They went over to the house where, while it wasn’t much cooler, at least they were out of the sun. Daniel went inside to retrieve the Ben and Jerry’s quarts from the deep freezer and then they sat on the bench on the front porch, enjoying spoonfuls of cold creamy Cherry Garcia and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.

The cat showed up from somewhere and started brushing against Daniel’s legs, uttering tiny noises; a mix of purring and meowing. Daniel dipped a semi clean finger into his ice cream and let the cat lick it off.

“Don’t stick that finger in there again,” Jack groused.

“Okay,” Daniel said – and used the next finger to spoon up some more ice cream for the cat. After all he had ten of those.

Jack averted his eyes, then had to look again despite himself, as Daniel stuck another finger into his Ben and Jerry’s container. Nope, he couldn’t stand this. “For cryin’ out loud, get her a bowl.”

With a grin Daniel zipped back inside and returned a moment later. He spooned up a little amount of ice cream and dropped it in the cat’s food bowl. Cat’s meowing turned into a crescendo and then she was on it, devouring the treat.

The cat wasn’t supposed to eat human food and Daniel knew it. The cat, of course, ate about anything you offered her that tasted like meat or somehow resembled milk. Daniel said cats sometimes needed treats just like people and horses. Jack spent good dollars on healthy cat food with added vitamins – because Daniel had lectured him about the cat catching worms and other parasites from eating raw mice. Jack did not fancy the idea of cooking or frying the mice cat kept bringing home. But he didn’t want to be responsible for the cat getting sick either. So the cat got gourmet food and regular worm treatments just to be on the safe side – and still she hunted mice. Only instead of eating them she placed them neatly by the front door now. Daniel had informed Jack the cat was showing gratitude and love by wanting to give them something back.

The cat’s tiny pink tongue came out to lick her bowl clean while she craned her neck and twisted her gray-brown striped head to get to every little drop of ice cream. Jack had to admit it was endearing to watch.

Daniel had gone back to eating his Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough with the spoon. Jack scraped the last bits of his Cherry Garcia from the bottom of his jar.

“Jack?” The way Daniel said his name made Jack pause and look up. He had learned to listen to the fine nuances in Daniel’s voice. There was something tentative there, almost shy.

“What’s up?” Jack asked, not giving away he had picked up on sotmething.

“Do you think I should go to that school?”

 _Oh, here we go..._ “Are you still thinking about this? It’s okay, Daniel. You don’t have to go.”

“Doctor Lam thinks I should,” Daniel said.

“And you said you’re not ready,” Jack replied.

“Maybe I’m just a coward,” Daniel murmured, placing his empty Ben and Jerry’s jar on the ground where it was conquered by the cat immediately.

Jack felt his jaw twitch in suppressed annoyance. Screw Lam and her ‘pep talks’. He put his own ice cream container down and touched Daniel’s arm lightly. “Look at me,” he said and, when Daniel reluctantly made eye contact, continued. “You are _not_ a coward. And whatever you think, that’s not what Doctor Lam indicated in any way. She means well. She wants you to get used to the thought that there’s a life outside these woods. That you can go out there and be part of that life. But only when you’re ready, not because you think that’s what you should do. Okay?”

“When I’m ready,” Daniel repeated. Then he blinked, his eyes clouding with anxiety and worry. “Jack, what if I’m never going to be ready?”

Jack had to smile at that. “Believe me, kiddo, you’ll be ready. And when you are you’ll know it.”

“How?”

“You just will. You do things at your pace and it’ll work out. Trust me.”

Daniel gave him a crooked smile. “I can do that.”

Jack hoped Daniel would start to spread his wings again someday; go to school, find friends, embrace life with all its ups and downs. Daniel still had that natural curious streak in him, but he’d been burned one time too many and his usual attitude about jumping into new and unknown situations head first had taken a hit. But Jack knew it was in there somewhere and in time, when all the wounds had healed over, Daniel would go out there and find new challenges. But as long as life at the cabin was enough to keep him happy Jack wasn’t going to question it.

No matter what well meaning doctors thought about it. All that talk about Daniel having to meet other kids and be re-socialized into the ‘real world’ whether he wanted it or not, was just a load of crap. Daniel was different. He needed one thing most of all – time. Hey, they were making progress here, okay? Daniel worked at Harry’s twice a week. Not so much for the money, but to get in touch with people. He was still shy around strangers and he still wasn’t back to his formerly brilliant conversation skills. But he was interacting and talking to people. They had gone places, too. Shopping malls made the kid uncomfortable and loud busy cities stressed him, but he could do it now. They’d been to Colorado several times to see Lam, and Daniel had stopped being jumpy and skittish when he was at the mountain. He didn’t want to go anywhere near the gate, but he liked seeing Carter and Teal’c and he didn’t mind Lam prodding and poking him. If that wasn’t progress, then Jack didn’t know what was.

They had talked about the possibility of going to school. Did Daniel feel like he was missing anything? Did he want to go to a real school? Daniel had looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression and asked if they had to move away. Jack had said no. He’d drive Daniel out to ‘town’ to catch the school bus and pick him up there every day. The next school was at Hermantown, an hour’s drive there and back. Jack had powered up the laptop and shown Daniel the school’s website. Not a bad place, all things considered. High educational standards, art program and language classes. Daniel had looked at the website, dutifully read the resume and compared it to his online classes. Then he had looked at Jack and asked, “Do I have to go there?” And Jack had asked, “Do you want to?” And Daniel had shaken his head and hugged himself. And then he had said, “Maybe someday.”

And that was all Jack needed to know.

When Daniel was ready to tackle the next big step he would.

Pushing the thought of Carolyn Lam and her nagging away, Jack said, “You want to check out the ghost town?”

“Can we look for her on our way?”

Jack sighed. It meant taking the thorny path through the scrub behind the pond. Looking at Daniel’s grubby bare feet he said, “You need to wear shoes.”

“Okay.”

“And a long sleeved shirt and pants. Because of the thorns. And there might be poison Ivy.”

Daniel nodded somewhat impatient. “I know, Jack.”

Jack remembered how Daniel had refused to change clothes the first couple of weeks he’d lived here. He had clung to a pair of boxers and an oversized shirt that belonged to Jack like his life had depended on it. And maybe for Daniel, at that time, it had.

That, too, had changed. But the kid still liked running around bare foot and with as few clothes as possible during the summer if he could get away with it. So that the little monkey was willing to put on boots long shirts even in this heat spoke volumes on how worried he really was about the absence of his horse friend.

**II**

Wearing sturdy boots, jeans and flannel shirts – way too warm in this kind of weather, but the only clothes to tackle this kind of scrub – they hiked around the pond, carefully looking for signs of the horse having passed through here. But they didn’t find any tracks which, given the storm and long rains, wasn’t really a surprise. Any hoof tracks would have been washed away and the whole area on the other side of the pond was a mess of black Hawthorn and Buckthorn bushes, ivy and dense trees. As far as Jack knew the land over here and up to the old logging road belonged to some company who had bought it decades ago and never did anything with it. There was no forest ecosystem management on that stretch of land, but there were no fences either, not even ‘no trespassing’ signs. It was just untamed wilderness.

Creeks, formerly small and shallow, now considerably swollen due to the rain, wound and bubbled their way through the scrub in beds of stones and muddy sand. Jack and Daniel had to watch their step to not end up splashing into the water. But Daniel was like a little mountain goat, agile and secure in his step. He’d become a true Minnesotan outdoor kid in the two years he’d been living at the cabin and Jack was proud to see him almost meld with the forest as though he’d always belonged here.

Small lizards who had basked in the sun scurried away from the approaching humans. Daniel pointed out several bird nests in the trees. Once they spotted the red fur of a retreating fox and a while later a bunch of groundhogs who stood motionless, watching the man and the boy as they crouched by a dead trunk to observe the animals for a moment.

The groundhogs looked at Daniel with their beady round eyes as if they were trying to figure out whether he was friend or foe. Then a branch broke under Jack’s boot and the groundhogs on watch started whistling in alarm at the intruders and hurried into their burrows.

“I like them,” Daniel said a little disappointed that they were gone. “They look smart. You scared them away.”

Jack winced. “Sorry. Maybe if we stick around for a while, they’ll be back. We could eat something.” There was a bag with yesterday’s leftover blueberry muffins and a thermos with cold homemade lemonade in his backpack.

But there wasn’t a comfortable place to sit, so they ditched the idea and hiked on.

An hour later they had made it through and were standing on the old logging road which was now a mere path overgrown by high weeds, but still traceable and lined by Elms and red raspberry bushes. They picked their way through some of the bushes, eating the plump, sweet, red berries as they walked on in the general direction of Kinney. Again they looked out for tracks of the horse, again with no success.

“Jack, look!” Daniel pointed at a wooden construction lurking among the trees. “Is that Kinney?”

“Should be, yep.”

And sure enough the path widened into a rubble road littered with patches of grass and more weed. But still a kind of road. The leftover buildings Jack remembered from his childhood summers were even more decayed than they had been in the late fifties and early sixties. There was a house with a partly preserved drooping roof, barely holding itself upright on three rotten stone walls. A tree had crashed into the sad little cabin and was now supporting the remaining roof. The next storm would be the end of that leftover piece of history.

They spotted two other buildings or rather the remains of the construction. Corner stones, parts of a baseplate, a couple of rotten posts.

Surely no place for a horse to seek refuge. And seeing how their horse wasn’t fond of man-made shelters anyway, Jack was pretty sure she wasn’t around here. He could see the same conclusion on Daniel’s face as they passed what was left of the church – a caved in wooden tower. Lonely fence posts here and there, sticking out of the weed and high grass, marked what must have been the cemetery.

Daniel looked around, curious but apparently not interested in crawling all over the ruins. Somehow Jack felt a pang of sadness. Sure, these weren’t Mayan or Egyptian ruins. Nothing to fawn over and find chicken scratchings or highly valued artifacts in. But still... He’d somehow expected Daniel to investigate the old church tower or the cemetery, to see if there were grave stones left, to find out who had lived and died here... it would have been so Daniel.

They sat on weather beaten stone steps that had once led to the door of the church and ate their slightly mushed blueberry muffins while passing the small cup of the thermos back and forth between them. The lemonade wasn’t too sweet; just right to go with the muffins, and still cool. Daniel nudged Jack’s elbow and they watched a brown hare hopping across the rubble road.

“Look at those long ears,” Jack whispered. “You think it’s an elf in disguise?”

Daniel put a hand over his mouth to stiffen a chuckle that would have scared the hare off. “Ja-ack,” he whispered. “That’s a Jack Rabbit.”

Jack eyed the extremely long eared mammal for a moment. “I don’t think we’re related. We’ve got long O’Neill noses, but no long ears.”

Grinning, Daniel shook his head.

The Jack Rabbit hopped a little closer, its nose constantly twitching. They watched as it sat on its hind legs, eying them curiously, one ear towards them, the other away from them. Jack literally held his breath for a moment when his long eared namesake suddenly crossed the distance between them and started to search the ground to Daniel’s feet for muffin crumbs. Daniel gazed down at the little guy and didn’t move. The rabbit sniffed at the tip of Daniel’s boot, then turned around and hopped off the other way, white tail nodding at them. Then it vanished into the scrub on the other side of the road.

“The horse isn’t here,” Daniel said quietly.

“Oh, we could call for her. Maybe she’s around somewhere after all,” Jack said, but he wasn’t hopeful either.

Daniel looked doubtful. “If she’s around she’d know we’re here. And she doesn’t like loud voices.”

The kid had a point there, but... “If she’s too far away to smell or sense us she could still hear us. And she knows our voices.”

Daniel bit his lip and drew an unruly circle in the dust with his the tip of his left boot. “Jack, what if she doesn’t want to come back?”

Jack opened his mouth to tell Daniel that she had no reason for that, but the truth was; he couldn’t really know. And wasn’t the thought that she had moved on to someplace else easier to live with than the possibility that something had happened to her? Something... bad? But then, it had been just four weeks.

“What makes you think she doesn’t want to come back?” Jack asked anyway, curious to hear the answer.

“Something was different.”

“Different how? About her?”

Daniel nodded.

“You think she actually _thought_ of leaving long before she did?” Jack had no idea about horse’s thought processes, but he hardly believed she’d planned a world cruise or bought a flight ticket.

A frown met this question. “She was...” Frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words, Daniel kicked away a pebble. “Sometimes she was restless.”

Jack didn’t know what to make of that. “Look, Danny, maybe she just wandered further away this time. For some reason only she knows? Maybe it’s just taking her a little longer to come home than usually?”

“Is that what you think?” Daniel’s eyes bore into Jack’s as though he had the truth hidden somewhere inside him.

“It’s what I hope.” When the x-ray look didn’t waver, Jack said, “Let’s give it another couple of days, okay? If she’s not home by, let’s say, Monday we’ll get into the truck and start searching.”

“Okay,” Daniel agreed softly and nodded sagely. “I wish I knew where she is.”

“Me too, bud,” Jack said, trying to squash the nagging feeling of his own worry eating away at him. Daniel hadn’t said he had a hunch that something _must_ have happened to her. He was concerned, but he wasn’t in a frenzy. Yet. “Make it Sunday,” Jack said after another moment of thought. “Tomorrow. If she’s not back by tomorrow we’ll go looking. And let’s take a closer look around Kinney now.”

There was a smile tugging at the boy’s lips. “Thank you.”

They packed up the thermos and the empty muffin bag and started walking perimeters in and around what was left of Kinney. They did call out for her after all, but the forest stood still and silent except for a woodpecker hammering away at some poor tree and other birds twittering. They found two entrances to old mine shafts, but they were both sealed with sturdy wooden planks.

They separated for a short while, walking around a muddy pond, and met back at the rubble road.

No horse.

“Let’s go home,” Jack suggested finally. They were both hot and sweaty and the muddy pond had been swarming with mosquitoes.

Daniel nodded, but his gaze was fixed on something behind Jack and suddenly he started moving. When Jack realized that Daniel was heading for the cemetery, he hurried to follow. He wanted to see what had piqued the boy’s curiosity.

The Kinney cemetery probably once used to be a groomed large patch of grass behind a pristine wooden church. The branches of two gnarly old trees were like a canopy over the area, spending shade. Today the graveyard was overgrown by milkweed and the formerly white fence – Jack somehow believed it had been a white fence – only consisted of a couple of lonesome posts that still stuck in the ground like guards refusing to leave their posts. The gravestones were withered lumps of rock covered with mosses and lichen.

The milkweed, however, was in full bloom; its clusters of small pink blossoms everywhere between the graves. Some of the stuff had grown high enough to reach Daniel’s chest.

“It’s so pretty,” Daniel whispered, standing in the midst of the milkweed.

Jack stopped next to him and looked around, wondering why they hadn’t seen this earlier when they arrived. It wasn’t the milkweed that was holding their fascination for several minutes. The milkweed was pretty, yeah, but it was growing everywhere all over the woods.

It was the butterflies.

There had to be... Jack wanted to think hundreds of them, but it was hard to tell. They were feeding on the blooms, hovering over the plants, moving in groups, settling down again, dancing around each other. When they kept still they seemed to be part of the plants, like tawny orange dots on the pink blooms. At a closer look there were black lines on their wings and a series of tiny white spots.

“They’re Monarchs,” Jack knew. He kept his voice low pitched even though the butterflies were totally engrossed in feeding and playing – or mating, maybe – and didn’t pay attention to the human audience. “They are called wanderers because they move to Mexico at the end of the summer and return next year.”

“I love them,” Daniel murmured. “Look how graceful they are. I wish I’d brought the camera.”

Suddenly, as if on a telepathic signal, the Monarchs soared up. For a moment they were hovering over the plants like a blanket, then they were swarming around Jack and Daniel, soft whispering wings brushing their arms and hair in passing.

Jack froze, suddenly sure Daniel was going to panic.

Daniel had had a very personal ugly encounter with replicator bugs and Jack couldn’t tell if getting this close and personal with the swarming butterflies was going to scare him. There was no pattern in what might throw the kid back into his personal hell with the bugs and repli Carter. They could go for months now without nightmares or flashbacks causing Daniel to get that deer-in-the-headlights look and fall back into short periods of semi catatony. Daniel was healing, the gaps were closing. But you never knew what would trigger an episode of anxiety and fear.

Jack reached for him and pulled him close, wrapping his arms loosely around the lanky preteen; never holding him too tight, always making sure Daniel could withdraw. Sometimes the line Daniel was drawing for physical contact was still fragile, too. Especially when he was in one of these episodes or just coming out of it.

But Daniel didn’t draw away. He didn’t panic either. He didn’t even seem to realize Jack was holding him. His eyes followed the butterflies who had left their picnic area and descended into the jeans blue sky; twirling away, becoming smaller and smaller until they were nothing but dark spots. Then they were gone.

Daniel looked at Jack then with bright eyes. “They were singing. Did you hear them sing?”

Jack thought Daniel was talking about the soft quiet thud thud thud of flapping butterfly wings as they had flown away, but maybe Daniel had heard something else. This was one of the changes the downsizing had brought. He seemed to sense and hear things beneath the surface of what normal humans could. Not always, and not in a frightening or psychic way, but it was a change nevertheless. A touch of Daniel’s hands, a whispered litany of words would calm the horse and turn the cat into a purring cuddly ball. Daniel found the best places for wild strawberries, picked the most beautiful water lily, had birds almost eating out of his hands and a Jack Rabbit sitting at his feet. Daniel never claimed he could talk to the animals or nature, but sometimes Jack thought that was exactly what he did.

“I heard something,” Jack said vaguely as the rubble road became the logging road. “I’m not sure what it was.”

“It was like music,” Daniel insisted. Then he walked faster. “Come on, Jack, maybe she’s home by now and needs food!”

Jack followed, wondering briefly if the butterflies had told him so.

**August**

_"May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun._  
And find your shoulder to light on.  
To bring you luck, happiness and riches.  
Today, tomorrow and beyond."

_An Irish Blessing_

**I**

 “He’s not a happy camper,” Jack told the cat as he roamed his fingers through her gray and brown striped coat, looking for ticks. She started to wriggle in his arm and he hurried on with his inspection before he got scratched. Usually, tick inspections were Daniel’s job and of course Daniel never even got close to being scratched.

Jack probed cat’s neck, behind the ears, and her belly. She twisted her neck and tried to sink sharp little teeth into Jack’s wrist, but he managed to put a thumb under her chin and turn her head the other way.

Maybe it was time to remind Daniel his chores wouldn’t do themselves.

A paw shot out and tiny toes curled around Jack’s finger, claws digging into his skin.

“Hey! I’m almost done, you little witch,” Jack ground out, trying to pull his finger out of cat’s grip. He pulled, she clawed. “Fine. If you get eaten by a monster tick, don’t come whining to me,” he muttered as he let go of her. She released his hand and bolted away. At the end of the deck she sat, gave him an indignant glare and smoothed down her ruffled fur with her tongue.

Jack was by the back door which was actually the front door, but they never used it as a front door. They always used the door by the pond for some reason. The back-front door had a view over the horse’s pasture, the shed and the vegetable patch. There were three apple trees, a couple of blueberry bushes, and the well.

Daniel was sitting in the grass, propped up against a fence post, gazing at the tree line.

Unmoving.

Waiting.

Jack sighed inwardly and eyed his tortured finger. Surprisingly there was no blood, only four tiny marks where the little witch had clawed him. Giving the cat a glare for good measure, Jack strolled past her and over to where Daniel was on his watch post.

“Daniel,” Jack said quietly, “it’s time for dinner.”

Daniel shook his head.

“Not eating won’t bring her back,” he said, knowing he wasn’t collecting brownie points or gold stars with that one.

Daniel bit his trembling lip, hard.

Jack sat down next to the boy, his eyes following Daniel’s to the trees and the worn path. The path Jack had walked, ran, skipped and dashed on ever since he’d been a snotty little kid. The path that led to the meadows, the strawberry bushes, the best climbing trees, the hidden places to build shelters and Indian tipis, the small river where you could catch small trout... The path Daniel and the horse used to get in and out of the forest, day by day, spring, summer, fall and winter. The path the mare had probably used to leave. The path she would come down when she returned.

Only she’d been gone for almost three months now.

“I’ll bring you a sandwich if you promise to eat it,” Jack said, knowing he should stand firm and force Daniel out of his balancing act between grief and hope. Should make him do his chores, go to bed, eat regular meals again... Jack shouldn’t allow him to sit here day in day out.

Just waiting.

Sooner or later Daniel had to accept the fact that the mare might not come back. That she had gone elsewhere. Or that something had happened to her. Jack knew he had to put an end to this...

Every day he vowed to himself that today was the last day. That he’d make Daniel face the truth. Whatever the truth was. That he’d convince Daniel to go on with life, to stop waiting out here for hours and hours...

And every day Jack was confronted with the sad eyes and the slumped shoulders. Every time he tried to cajole Daniel into eating, reading a book, doing some school work... every time Jack got Daniel to move away from his post it was like watching a robot going through a well known program. And as soon as Daniel had done what was asked of him he’d be back sitting right here.

Waiting.

And as he was waiting he was retreating.

Jack could literally watch Daniel closing back up into himself. And that was the worst of it. That was something Jack couldn’t allow to happen. And yet – he didn’t have the power to stop it. Because he couldn’t take the pain away. He could try to ease it somewhat, but that required Daniel to work with him. And that wasn’t going to happen just yet.

Jack nudged him with his elbow. “Sandwich?”

Daniel nodded.

“What kind of sandwich?” Jack asked.

Daniel shrugged.

Jack swallowed a rather sharp remark. Instead he took Daniel by his shoulders and gently, but firmly, forced him to make eye contact. “Answer me, please,” he said quietly.

“Cheese,” Daniel said flatly.

“What else? And there’s no ‘whatever’ in the fridge or the pantry.”

There was a pout, but a reply nevertheless. “Tomatoes. Ham.”

“Are you going to eat it?”

A nod. Then, after a moment of hesitation. “Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jack got to his feet and walked briskly back to the cabin.

As he put together a couple of sandwiches in the small kitchenette that was part of the big family room, he tried to make up his mind about whether or not he should call the SGC and talk to Carolyn Lam. Or the kiddie shrink in Hermantown Daniel had seen for a while once he’d started talking again. Jack could call them and... and then what? He didn’t need help to figure out what was wrong with his kid. He needed to fix it. And he couldn’t. Neither could the shrink nor Lam. But if the horse didn’t come back and Daniel couldn’t cope...? That horse wasn’t just a pet. She had been part of Daniel’s healing process, part of his new safe haven. If she was gone for good Jack had no idea how to make this better.

They had looked everywhere. Daniel had asked Harry for some time off, telling him they were going on a camping trip, looking for their horse. Harry didn’t mind. The ‘town’ wasn’t a tourist attraction except for a couple of regular summer guests who owned cabins out here. The store was mostly just a hang out point for the ‘town’s’ elders who would sit out back, have beer and coke and snacks while they played cards and smoked. Harry had wished them luck and promised to drive out to the cabin to feed the cat, no biggie.

So Jack and Daniel had taken the truck and a tent and tried their best to find a trace of their horse lady. They had tried several of the long hiking trails around their woods, moved out to further away campgrounds and taken other trails from there. What they had found were old horse droppings,trampled down brush that could have been tracks of a horse or a deer – who knew? They had hiked around the bigger lakes up north where the woods surrounding Jack’s cabin and the ‘town’ thinned out and turned into a kind of prairie and later into another forest area that only had deciduous woodland. They had searched the logging and forest roads, had even stopped at some other cabins and small communities and asked if anyone had spotted a semi wild horse.

Some people actually had seen her, or at least were sure they had. But after three weeks of trying to find a needle in a haystack Jack had felt like they’d been on a wild goose chase. Wild horse chase. Whatever. And Daniel had kept saying she might be back home while they were trying to find her elsewhere. So finally they had given up and returned to the cabin – where the cat had greeted them happily, but no horse had been waiting for them.

That’s when Daniel had started to fall apart. Slowly, but surely.

Before they’d gone on their trip they had plastered flyers all over the ‘town’, asking everyone if they had seen their horse. Some claimed they had, weeks ago, seen her in the woods. Some had started venting; telling them their horse kept eating from their vegetable patches and trampling down the fences to their yards. Daniel was sure their horse wouldn’t even go close to other humans because she had been hurt in the past. Daniel _knew_ their horse didn’t plunder other people’s vegetable patches and while Jack had caught her trying to eat their carrots several times, he believed Daniel was right. There were probably deer trampling down people’s fences and eating their cabbages and whatnot. Jack had deer vandalizing his own veggie patch more often than the horse.

Sheriff Bueler had told Jack to finally claim ownership on that damn horse and put her behind a fence and into a stable. “If no one wants her and she took a liking to you and your boy, take her in and keep her. But don’t let her stray like that. She might get shot or someone else might catch her and sell her on the horse markets.”

Jack kept mulling that over for a while now.

There’d be horse markets in September, over in Hermantown and St. Paul and other larger towns. Maybe it was worth a try to go there and look for her. If someone had caught her they’d most likely try to sell her there.

Jack picked up the plate with sandwiches and grabbed two cans of coke from the fridge. They had a lot of their evening meals over there by Daniel’s watch post lately.

 _It has to stop,_ Jack thought. _Soon._

But the truth was that he was driven by guilt as much as he was missing the horse, too.

Bueler had been right. Jack had known it all along, had been aware he was taking big risks by letting the mare run free. He should have kept her by the house on her fenced pasture, with a proper stable. Instead he had let her come and go as she pleased and risked her being hurt, or caught, or wandering off. If something had happened to her, if she had been shot or broken her leg, not being able to come home... It would be his fault. Because he’d been irresponsible and naive enough to believe she could take care of herself. But the Minnesota woods weren’t the Rocky Mountains where Mustangs roamed free. The woods were large and there were many wild and untamed areas, but there were also homes and private properties with barbwire fences and farmers who might shoot a horse on sight thinking she was an invading deer.

All water under the bridge now. All they could do now was hope she'd found a new home or was still running free elsewhere.

Jack carried their dinner outside and joined Daniel once more at his favorite spot. They sat and ate in silence. Jack noticed the grass needed mowing now that the horse didn’t graze here anymore. He could mow it and give it to Harry who would feed it to his bunnies.

 Speaking of Harry...

 “You need to go back to work next week,” Jack said.

 Daniel sighed. “I need to be here.”

 “You have a job. You can’t just stay away.”

 “Harry doesn’t need me, really.”

 “That’s not the point.”

 Daniel grimaced. “Need to be here.”

 “I’ll be here,” Jack said. “I promise. I’ll look out for her while you’re gone.” Maybe now was the right time to say it. “Daniel, how much longer are you going to sit out here?”

 Daniel stiffened, his eyes narrowing.

 Jack chose his words carefully. “I’m not saying you should give up hope. Or that you have to stop coming out here and wait for her. I’d never do that. Just,” he spread his hands in a helpless gesture, “don’t forget everything else. You’ve got the kitten to take care of, too. And you can’t just stay away from work forever.”

 Daniel shrugged.

 “You could quit your job at Harry’s. It’s not that important, really,” Jack went on. “It made the old guy happy to have you around and you took some of the work off his shoulders, but you’re right; he’ll get by without you. The townspeople really like you and are going to miss you, but they’ll understand. I know you’re old enough to stick to your responsibilities, but you’re in a lot of pain right now and so, if you wanna quit I guess that’s what you have to do. But you can't just stay away like this.”

 The crickets were lazily chirping here and there as Daniel kept brooding, not giving away if he had even listened to what Jack said. A curios beetle investigated the empty plate between them on the grass.

 "I like Harry,” Daniel said finally. “He’s nice, but old.”

 “So he needs you after all? To help?”

 Daniel shrugged again, then remembered Jack couldn’t hear his thoughts. “Sometimes. For carrying and stacking boxes. Maybe.”

 “Then don’t quit. Go back next week. It might distract you. Might be good for you.”

 Daniel wiped the heel of his hand over his eyes. “It all just goes away.”

 And just like that Jack was back on that balcony all those years ago, trying to stop Daniel from jumping. He could see the cloudy gray sky, the gray sweatshirt Daniel had been wearing, could hear the bleakness in Daniel’s voice and the forced calmness in his own.

  _It just goes away – we’ll get it back – you can’t get it back..._

  _Don’t, Daniel_ , Jack thought, just as he had been thinking back then. _Don’t jump. Please don’t go back to that dark place inside where I can’t reach you._

 Jack shifted closer to him, but Daniel pulled his knees to his body and wrapped his arms around himself. “Replicator Sam tried to make me believe I was safe. That I was with you. With SG-1. She showed me all kinds of happy things – to make me share my memories from when I was ascended. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Then I thought everything was just fake, even when you really came and took me home. But you were real. You and the horse were real.”

“Yeah, we are. You know that,” Jack said flatly, afraid of where this was going.

“Yes. I know that.” Daniel looked at Jack, a single tear glistening on his cheek. “It all goes away. That’s how it is in the real world. That’s how it always was.”

“Some things do,” Jack agreed, wishing he knew the right words, knew a way to ease the pain. “But not everything. Not everone, Danny. You don’t want to live in Repli Carter’s world, do you? You never want to go back there.”

Another tear trickled down, was wiped away angrily. “No. Don’t want to go back there. Never.”

“But right now you don’t like the real world much either, do you?” Jack asked gently.

He hadn’t thought for one moment that Daniel would ever want to trade the real world for Repli Carter’s ‘make believe’ universe in which she had manipulated and then finally killed him... but he was still afraid Daniel was going to go back to that place inside his own head where he had been hiding from Repli Carter and her mind probing. That he was trying to retreat from the real world in the same way to protect himself from further pain.

Daniel shook his head, blinking away more tears.

“Stay with me,” Jack whispered, desperately trying to squelch the flutter of fear inside him. “Can you do that?”

Maybe tears were a good sign, Jack couldn’t tell. At least it was a reaction. Different from just sitting here all day.

Jack held out a hand, palm up, offering to be Daniel’s anchor the only way he knew how. “Sometimes life has teeth and then it bites,” he said. “All you can do is pull through and hope it gets better. Most of the time it does.”

Daniel stared at Jack’s hand, then grabbed it and squeezed it, held on to it. “I want to believe that,” he whispered. “I want to believe it. I have to.”

A Monarch hovered close by and settled on a flower, its wings oscillating as it balanced itself out, then drank from the bloom’s nectar.

A watery smile, the first one in weeks, blossomed on Daniel’s face despite the tears. His grip around Jack’s fingers tightened.

It wasn’t good.

But maybe it was going to get better from here.

**II**

 

The Monarch had planted a seed that had grown into a plan overnight and when Jack played out his idea to Daniel over breakfast, he was relieved and excited when it was picked up with tentative enthusiasm.

 Baby steps.

 They picked an area by the shed to make sure their new part of the garden was shielded from too much wind, but still sunny. They worked all morning on shoveling a flower bed; getting rid of grass and weeds. That done, they climbed into the truck and headed out to an old closed quarry pit, a two hours drive away from the ‘town’. Daniel kept glancing back as though he’d rather stay at the cabin on his watch post, but Jack pretended not to notice and so they drove on and Daniel, while not talking much and being subdued for the whole ride, didn’t insist on going back.

The old quarry pit offered plenty of rocks and a dead sun bleached tree trunk. Once they had collected and loaded everything they needed on the truck’s bed, they headed back, taking a short break at Hermantown for burgers and milkshakes at a drive-in diner. Daniel managed all of his burger, maybe for the first time in weeks distracted enough from his worries to enjoy a meal.

Back home, once they had unloaded everything, Daniel came out to their chosen spot with a notebook and a pen and they started planning, plotting and sketching until late in the evening when the sun was riding deep, sending tendrils of orange and pink all over the sky. It was too late to go out and pick their plants now. Daniel was disappointed, but listened to the voice of reason (Jack’s) that they had all day tomorrow to finish their project.

Daniel went to bed with the cat snuggled by his side and, later, Jack stood in the doorway and watched them sleep.

Was he succeeding in keeping Daniel from withdrawing? Was giving him distraction with a project he loved enough to cross the troubled water; to cover the hole the horse’s departure had ripped into Daniel’s fragile layer of trust and sense of security? To at least pass the time until Daniel would feel less distraught about the possible loss of a friend he loved so deeply?

All Jack could do was hope.

The next day was as bright and sunny as ever and they looked at their list of flowers over breakfast, discussing which of them they would find in the woods and which of them they’d have to buy.

Equipped with shovels, buckets and several plastic bags they moved out to Daniel’s favorite wildflower meadow. Jack caught the kid searching the area longingly with sad eyes for a flaxen mane or tail, a silhouette by the tree line. Hell, Jack caught himself doing the very same thing. Was there the noise of something heavy breaking through the brush, a low snigger? Nope, nothing to hear, nothing to see, that resembled a horse.

They unearthed pink blossomed milkweeds, cornflowers with blooms the color of Daniel’s eyes, white rock cress and blanket flowers in yellow and red. They found wild bergamot with its lance shaped toothed leaves and clusters of violet flowers.

Daniel dug them up, almost tenderly brushing over the roots and making sure they weren’t damaged. He handled plants and animals with the same great care he used to handle artifacts and other precious objects. It was comforting to know that while the focus of Daniel’s passion had changed, the essence didn’t.

Sometimes, when he watched Daniel strolling through the woods, picking berries, climbing trees, chopping wood like a pro, or lying in the grass watching the birds fly... Sometimes when Jack looked at the boy with the wild blond mane, not unlike the horse’s, and the fit suntanned body that was slowly loosing the softness of a child and turning into the gangly form of a teenager... Sometimes Jack had to remind himself that this child used to be his archeologist. The guy who had known more about dead civilizations than anyone Jack had ever met. The man who could sit hours and hours in the dirt and brush off dust from shards of pottery or try to decipher text on temple walls. The man who had been Jack’s best friend, his conscience more often than not. And then on other days the man Daniel had been seemed to be so close to the surface that Jack could almost see him behind the 13 years Daniel appeared to be now.

They carried home their findings and re-planted them on their chosen spot which had just the right mix of sunlight and shade. The soil here was the same as the plants had been used to so Jack hoped they’d forgive them for their relocation.

“Do you think the Monarchs will find it, Jack?” Daniel asked when they stood back and looked at their progress. They had arranged the rocks as natural breaks between groups of flowers and the dead tree trunk in the middle. The rocks and the trunk would give shelter and places to lay eggs. So would the bushes by the shed.

“I’m sure they’ll find it and take advantage of it. They are going to move soon so they’ll need places to rest.”

“It’s not as large as the cemetery in Kinney though. Is it big enough to feed them all?”

“I’m sure it’ll feed at least groups of them. They’re going to rest here and there and not all in one place if there’s not enough space. Don’t worry, bud, it’s great.”

“The caterpillars will have enough to eat, too,” Daniel said satisfied. “We can buy lilac and tawny lilies. And prepare the feeder.”

They had to drive to the next Linders Gardencenter which was in the opposite direction from Hermantown on a Highway exit.

Once they arrived there, Daniel’s eyes grew big at the huge assortments of flowers, small trees and other goods. Jack dismissed the plan of a quick in and out of the shop. Instead he followed Daniel from the outside floral area to the tree area, to the vegetable house and on to the fruit trees and bushes.

Then they reached the rose garden. Daniel walked slowly among roses in all sizes and colors, taking in the different hues of red, pink, yellow, white, apricot and blue. Yes, they had blue roses here. Some were climbing roses, some were large bushes with tiny blooms and others were just standard roses, but beautiful nevertheless.

Daniel stood still at one point, taking a deep breath. “Can you smell them, Jack? Some smell sweet and some smell like perfume. Others smell dark and rich like a warm safe place. And some smell like fresh rain drops on a spring day.”

 _Where does he take these analogies from_ , Jack thought. Adult Daniel used to talk a lot. He’d talked about stuff that interested him, about things he’d thought Jack needed to listen to – whether Jack had wanted it or not. Adult Daniel had been a well of information and knowledge. Little Daniel didn’t use words like his adult self had. But when he used them these days, Jack felt compelled to listen. And sometimes Daniel’s words were still pearls of wisdom and insights.

“I have never seen so many flowers and plants together,” Daniel said later, keeping his voice low, as they strolled through an indoor aisle with potted plants like bamboo, rubber trees and other green leaf plants.

“You didn’t have many plants in your house before...” Jack made a vague hand gesture.

Daniel frowned. “I kind of remember the house, but it’s like a blur. Was it a nice house? There were lots of old things I liked. Artifacts.”

“It was a nice enough place,” Jack said. “And yeah, it was full of artifacts.”

“You used to call them stuff. And rocks,” Daniel remarked absently.

Jack winced a little. “Ye-ah.”

“I can’t imagine living anywhere else but at the cabin,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “But if I ever do, I want lots of plants and a huge garden.”

Once they had rounded the whole in- and outside area of Linders, they bought four lilacs and several lilies.

They finished the planting that evening and Daniel prepared a feeder from a small jar that had formerly held pesto sauce. Jack kept small vessels like these in case they had to prep medication for the horse or the cat. Daniel drilled a small hole in the center of the lid and plugged it with cotton after they had filled the jar with a solution of sugar and water. They wrapped the jar in colorful duct tape to attract the butterflies and then hung it in one of the lilacs.

Last they carried the old bench down from the small deck by the front door they used as a back door. Since they were usually sitting on the porch facing the lake, this bench had never been used much. Now they placed it under the old oak. Close enough to their new garden so they could watch the butterflies.

The hotel was ready, now they were waiting for the guests to move in. Jack hoped with something close to desperation that their work would be rewarded. Daniel loved the butterflies and if nothing else they would keep him away from sitting at the same spot all day, staring at the path leading into the forest.

**III**

 The butterflies arrived by the end of August when the temps finally started dropping down to 80 degrees. Daniel had been waiting for them even though he had tried not to appear too impatient. He divided his time between doing his chores, sitting by his favorite fence post with view on the woods, and sitting on the bench beneath the oak to watch the butterfly garden.

He also went back to Harry’s twice a week, which was good.

They had taken the Lord of the Rings book out there with them and continued to read with low voices. It had soon become their new favorite spot. Daniel was glued to the adventures of the hobbits, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf.

That particular evening he was biting his nails when the Fellowship reached the mines and cried a few silent tears when Samwise Gamgee lost his beloved pony Bill at the gates of Moira when the ‘Watcher of the Waters’, a huge ugly kraken, attacked the Fellowship.

“He’s not dead,” Jack assured Daniel. Yep, he had watched the movies.

“How do you know?” Daniel asked.

Jack smirked. “I just do. Trust me.”

Daniel scowled. “You said the horse will be back, too.”

 _Aw, crap._ Jack put the book down. “Daniel... I was sure she’d be back. I’m sorry.”

There was a long stretch of silence, then a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

Jack looked out over the colorful assemblage of flowers. Spots of blue, red, yellow and pink, white and violet. “You know...” he began, verbalizing his doubts for the first time. “Maybe you’re right to blame me. I should have put her behind a fence. Get her used to living in a stable.”

That’s when the first Monarchs appeared.

Daniel grabbed Jack’s hand and whispered. “There!”

At first there were only a few, twirling around the lilacs, touching down here and there. Others followed and soon they were swarming in. Not nearly as many as they had seen at the Kinney cemetery, but still enough to put out the ‘no vacancy’ sign on the hotel.

In mesmerized silence they watched, the book forgotten on the bench next to them.

The Monarchs drank from the flowers and the feeder and rested on the lilac and the milkweed, but they also used the dead tree trunk to settle down. After a while groups of them took off again, but lots of them stayed.

“She didn’t want to live in a stable or behind a fence,” Daniel said out of the blue. “She wanted to be free. To go wherever she wanted. Like the Monarchs.”

“She would have been safe,” Jack said.

“But not happy,” Daniel replied quietly.

 _She might have gotten used to it_ , Jack thought. But he didn’t say it out loud because it was too late now. And in the end Daniel was probably right. Living free in the wild was better than being safe, but caged and unhappy.

“I miss her,” Daniel murmured after another period of silence where they watched the Monarchs inspecting their new temporary home. He sounded sad, but there were no tears now.

“Yeah, me too, buddy,” Jack said and, strangely, now _he_ felt like shedding a few tears. But he’d never been a crying-kinda guy, so his eyes stayed dry, too.

**September**

 

“ _Not all those who wander are lost.”_

_JRR Tolkien “The Fellowship of the Ring”_

 

**I**

 

Monarchs go through a cycle of four generations throughout the year. The first generation hatches in March and April from eggs laid by the last generation of the cycle. They are born caterpillars who will feed mostly on milkweed for two weeks. Then they attach themselves to a stem or a leaf to prepare for metamorphosis. After ten days the caterpillars have transformed into butterflies. They have two to six weeks left to lay eggs for the second generation before they die. The second generation of butterflies are born in May and June, the third generation in July and August.

The fourth generation is born in September and October and goes through exactly the same process as the first three generations. Except, they don’t die after two to six weeks. The fourth generation of Monarchs migrates to the warmer climates of Mexico and California and lives for six to eight months until it’s time to start the whole process over again.

Daniel’s Monarchs had placed eggs for the fourth generation. Soon the butterfly garden was crawling with the yellow, white and black striped caterpillars who munched on the milkweed. Daniel spent hours watching them with and without a magnifying glass. He took pictures of them and looked up anything he could find about Monarchs on the internet.

Jack was pointed to some of the websites Daniel looked up and dutifully read some of the articles, too. He didn’t mind. It was great to see the kid engrossed in a new hobby that chased away some of the gloom and grief.

Still, Daniel would sit by his watch post in the evening hours. Still he would take strolls around the woods, visiting all the known favorite spots of the horse.

Daniel watered and took care of his butterfly garden and they had an exciting time watching as the caterpillars started building the cocoons around themselves while the trees changed color and Indian summer made the woods appear like a blanket of red and golden fire while it was still warm.

Every day in the ten days it took the caterpillars to become butterflies Daniel went out to observe their progress. As though he could make them crawl out of their cocoons faster by sheer will.

One morning when Jack was on the porch with a cup of coffee in his hand, looking across the pond, Daniel came dashing around the house. “Jack! The cocoons!” And with that he was gone again.

Jack placed his coffee on the porch’s banister and followed Daniel, affected by the youngster’s excitement. They crouched by the milkweed bush that had grown a great deal over the last couple of weeks and watched the tiny cocoons as they slowly opened and the tawny orange wings unfolded from them, already perfectly lined with black and dotted with the white spots. They didn’t mind the humans watching, probably didn’t even notice their presence. Gracefully they spread their delicate wings and fluttered away – only to make their next stop to feed on the picnic area Daniel and Jack had created for them.

Daniel brushed an errant strand of hair out of his face. He hadn’t tied it back yet and Jack wondered briefly if he’d even combed before he’d gone to visit his caterpillars this morning. Probably not. And who’d want to miss the butterflies leaving the cocoons over something negligible like bed messy hair?

Suddenly Daniel’s head snapped away from the butterflies and he stared at Jack with saucer-big eyes. “The horse,” he breathed.

Jack shot to his feet so abruptly, it disturbed some of the Monarchs. They flared up, circled over the garden and then settled down again elsewhere. “What?! Where?”

“She was different,” Daniel murmured, gazing open mouthed at the butterflies. “I know why. I didn’t understand. But I do now.”

Jack opened his mouth to ask what the heck Daniel was talking about, but the words never made it across his lips. Instead he reached down and tapped the boy’s shoulder. Daniel was still crouched by the cocoons where even more butterflies were emerging.

“Daniel.” Jack said, his mouth suddenly dry, his eyes fixed on the tree line. From the corner by the shed, where he was standing, he could only see a small section of the worn path and the fenced pasture, with its always open gate, stretching out to the trees.

Jack’s fingers curled into Daniel’s shirt and literally pulled him to his feet. “Tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

They stood, rooted to the spot, for a moment longer. Then Daniel’s whole body began to tremble. He took a step, then another, and another... and then he was by the fence, ducked under it and crossed the pasture with long strides, but not running.

Jack followed, dumbfounded, praying it wasn’t a hallucination; that it wouldn’t burst like a bubble and break Daniel’s heart all over again.

She came trotting down the path like any other day, the sunlight catching in her mane, turning it into molten gold. Her creamy coat was shaggy and needed a good brushing and cleaning, but she wasn’t lame and looked healthy enough. Lost some weight, needed a bit of fattening up.

Jack’s knees felt slightly wobbly as he watched Daniel approach her, almost sure she’d vanish into thin air the moment Daniel’s fingertips touched her broad head.

She sniggered; a dark and welcoming sound – Daniel probably associated it with a safe and warm place - and put her head on the boy’s shoulder. Allowed him to wrap his arms around her neck, to bury his face into her mane.

 _But,_ Jack thought in his state of shock, _there’s something wrong with her. She’s got eight legs now..._ Of course, that was crap. Horses didn’t grow four more legs.

Shaking himself out of it, he blinked and noticed a second tail; a much smaller one. When he lowered his eyes, he saw a long neck and a small head peering out from underneath the horse’s belly.

Hadn’t he just thought the horse lost weight? And hadn’t she gotten a bit fat over the last few weeks before she’d left? Hadn’t he read about wild horses leaving the herd to give birth? Jack’s head was still spinning as he reached the happy reunion.

Daniel had let go of her now and was on his knees in the grass, gazing in wonder at the foal; a palomino like its mother. It was a miniature edition of her. Except for the white almost star shaped blaze on the forehead.

When mommy didn’t show any signs of alarm, Junior got curious and rounded its mother on spindly legs. It stretched its neck and head to sniff Daniel’s hair. Then it snuffled his face like a dog and Jack bit back a laugh.

Daniel held up his hands and let the foal mouth them. Then he gently cupped its small head and brushed his fingertips over its flat cheekbones. The foal started nibbling happily on Daniel’s shirt.

Mother horse tousled Daniel’s long hair tenderly with her lips and then swung around to Jack and shoved her big nose into his chest in a friendly ‘Hey, I’m home, do I get a welcome treat or what?’ manner.

Jack snorted, playfully pulled one of her ears and rubbed her neck. His other hand reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a couple of slightly mushed woodland horsetreats. Yep, he was still carrying horse treats around with him, even after three months – just in case. Daniel hadn’t been the only one trying to keep his hopes up.

“Welcome home, Mom,” Jack said, enjoying the familiar warmth of her breath and even the slobber on his palm when she took the treat and used her tongue to get all the crumbs, too.

She let out a low rumbling sound Jack took as a ‘Thank you’. Or maybe it was ‘more’ because she started to paw the ground and tried to get into his pockets, which was a lost cause with that big nose.

“She’s hungry,” Daniel said softly, still cuddling with the mini-horse.

“Then let’s feed her.” Jack patted her neck and feigned a coughing fit at the emerging dust cloud. “That horse needs a washing and a serious grooming,” he decided.

“She loves being washed,” Daniel agreed and untangled himself from Junior.

“You get her food, I get the hose,” Jack ordered, then wagged a finger at the horse. “You stay here, Missy. No more wandering off.”

Daniel grinned at that. “She won’t. They’re home now, Jack.”

“I should put them behind that fence,” Jack grumbled as they went to take care of things.

He had some decisions to make regarding Mom and Junior. He just didn’t know if it would go over well with them. And Daniel. Jack wasn’t prepared to go through another three months like that again. And he sure didn’t want anything to happen to the new member of their family. Mom would protect her baby as well as she could, but it might not be good enough. And Jack had to consider the townspeople not wanting to put up with another semi wild horse in the area.

But for now they took action by feeding and watering her while Junior docked himself onto the milk bar and took his fill. Jack put an arm around his kid’s shoulders as they watched this and Daniel let out a contented sigh.

“How about a name for junior, eh?” Jack asked. “We can’t just call him Junior.”

“No. He’s not a prim’ta,” Daniel agreed, grimacing. He chewed his lower lip for a moment, then said. “But if he gets a name, she needs one, too.”

“She’s used to being called Horse,” Jack said.

“You call her Beauty or Missy,” Daniel pointed out.

“Now we can call her Mom,” Jack suggested.

“So she already has four names,” Daniel concluded and Jack shrugged.

A single Monarch fluttered by and chose Junior’s croup to land on. Junior’s short tail started to swish like a propelling feather duster. The butterfly took offense at that and continued its journey to find another resting place.

Jack thought _Prince_.

But Daniel said, “Elessar.”

“What?” Jack asked, puzzled.

Daniel blushed a little and shuffled his feet.

“What’s Elessar mean? Is that some Egyptian name for a king?”

“No.”

“What?”

“It’s part of Aragorn’s name when he gets to be king of Gondor. It means Elfstone.”

Jack glowered. “You read ahead! That’s against the rules.”

They had started “The Two Towers” a while back, but it seemed Daniel was way ahead of Jack.

Daniel nodded. “I had to know about Samwise’s pony. And then I just had to read on and on.”

“When did you read all that?” Jack couldn’t believe it.

Daniel shrugged, but looked sheepish. “At nights.” Then he hurried to say, “But we can still read it together. I don’t mind. Okay?”

“Elessar? Can’t we just call him King? Monarch?” Jack liked simple.

“I like Elessar,” Daniel said. “It’s beautiful and kingly. Like the foal. It’s going to be strong and graceful.”

Elessar finished his meal and stalked away from his mother to catch the Monarch who was foolish enough to settle on one of the fence posts. The kingly foal and the butterfly played tag for a while. And even though the Monarch wouldn’t let Elessar catch him, the foal’s antics were kinda graceful already. Sort of. Getting there.

**II**

Later Daniel hosed the horse down. At first the foal watched from a distance. When mommy didn’t object and, in fact, seemed to enjoy the treatment, Elessar edged closer until a spray of water hit his nose. Shaking his head in surprise, he jumped back. But curiosity won over and soon he would stick his whole head into the shower. Daniel flicked the hose and sprayed the foal quickly, which made him buck and leap-frog in circles.

Graceful it was not. Yet. But fun to watch.

As the day moved on Jack didn’t even attempt to pry Daniel away from the horses. Daniel was getting dirtier and dirtier as he brushed and combed, while the mare was turning all shiny under the thorough grooming. The water had gotten rid of a lot of the grime, but there was still enough to cover a 13 year old from head to toe, apparently. The little one was trying to get some attention, too, and Daniel had his hands full to entertain Elessar in between finishing the job on his mom.

Jack left the kids and mommy to their fun and went into the house. He put last touches on the potato salad he had prepared earlier and cooked the sausages.

By the time he was done cooking and Daniel had agreed to come inside long enough to wash himself, horse and son had moved to the pond and she was showing him the small cove at the small side where they could walk into the water and drink or just splash around.

Jack, Daniel and the – still nameless - cat had lunch on the deck as Elessar continued to explore his new home turf.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Daniel offered, his eyes longingly following the foal as it vanished around the corner of the house, followed by Mom.

“You sure you can stand letting them out of sight that long?” Jack teased. He reached over and ruffled Daniel’s hair, which was answered by a scowl, followed by a lopsided grin. “Scoot... I’m taking over KP duty today. Just clear the table. And we have to go see Doc Meyers later. We need worm paste.”

Daniel beamed at him and nodded. He grabbed their dirty plates and glasses, and was gone. A moment later Jack heard the front-back door slam.

Doc Meyers was the ‘town’ vet and a well of advice in anything regarding horses and cats. He was one of the very few people who never berated Jack about putting the horse behind a fence and into a stable. For some reason the old vet seemed to think the way Jack was dealing with the animal was perfectly normal. Meyers gave her her yearly shots – which she only seemed to endure because Daniel actually ‘asked her to’ and because Daniel talked softly to her when Meyers treated her. Meyers always gave her a once over, nodded his head and muttered, “Well, well, a mighty fine horse you have here, Jack.” He wasn’t much of a talker just for the sake of talking which suited Jack just fine.

Jack washed the dishes, wiped the counter of the kitchenette clean and went to look after the rest of the gang. Daniel was sitting on the bench by his butterfly garden, the horse peacefully grazing next to him while Elessar was drinking his fill. The Monarchs were still busy feasting on the flowers. They’d stay a couple of more days before they would start their journey to the warmer regions.

And next year, hopefully, they would be back spending the summer here.

Daniel looked up and waved, holding the book in his hand. “Jack!”

Jack sat down next to him and listened to Daniel’s quiet voice narrating. “It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing… this shadow. Even darkness must pass.”

And Jack gave a silent ‘Amen’ to that.

 

**Conversation in the Night**

 

 _Home is behind, the world ahead,_  
And there are many paths to tread  
Through shadows to the edge of night,  
Until the stars are all alight.  
Then world behind and home ahead,  
We'll wander back and home to bed.  
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,  
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!”

 

_J R R Tolkien “The Fellowship of the Ring”_

 

 

“You know, there’s some stuff I don’t get.” Jack tousled her long mane, curling some strands around his fingers, then letting go again.

She looked at him, the moonlight reflecting in her large suave eyes.

“Why did you have to be gone for so long, eh? We missed ya. The kid...” Jack had to clear his throat because all of a sudden he found it hard to speak. “Daniel almost got lost again,” he finally whispered. He got hold of her head and turned it to him. “Don’t do that again. Don’t leave us again.” He leaned forward until their foreheads touched and breathed in the scent of her; the earth, the sun, fresh cut grass. Apparently Daniel wasn’t the only one finding analogies.

He could only guess she had sensed the storm and thought it better to leave. Then the fires had maybe driven her further away and she had given birth somewhere she felt safe. Then of course she had to wait until the little one was fit to make the journey back from wherever they had been.

Daniel had shared Jack’s musings on this, but none of that they’d ever know for sure.

She snorted softly and took a step away, looking after Elessar who was close by, mouthing at a tuft of weed.

“You have to stay around,” Jack said, part of him still rolling his eyes about the fact that he was reasoning with a horse, for cryin’ out loud. But he had been talking to her for years now and sometimes he believed she understood. She surely understood everything Daniel was telling her. “You have to take care of that little one. Keep him close to the house where he’s safe.”

Elessar got bored with the weed and squeezed between them, trying to stick his nose under Jack’s shirt. Mom gently, but firmly, pushed her child aside. Giving Jack a low snigger she nudged Elessar forward and then walked past him.

“Beddy bye, kiddo,” Jack grinned as he watched the foal follow its mother.

He was about to turn in for the night as well, when he noticed Mom guiding Elessar to the shelter at the back of the pasture. When the foal was inside, Mom turned and gave Jack a long look.

 _We are home_ , it said, _and here we’ll stay._

  _Fin_

 


End file.
